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Troi. Thy Better must.

Cre. Hark, one word in your ear.

Troi. O plague, and madness!

Ulyf. You are mov'd, Prince; let us depart, I

pray you,

Left your displeasure fhould enlarge itself
To wrathful terms: this place is dangerous;
The time right deadly: I befeech you, go.
Trei. Behold, I pray you-
Ulyf. Good my lord, go off:

You fly to great diftraction: come, my lord.
Troi. I pr'ythee, stay.

Ulyf. You have not patience; come.

Troi. I pray you, ftay; by hell, and by hell's

torments,

I will not speak a word.

Dio. And fo, good night.

Cre. Nay, but you part in anger?

Troi. Doth that grieve thee? O wither'd truth!

Ulyf. Why, how now, lord?

Troi. By Jove, I will be patient.

Cre. Guardian-why Greek

Dio. Pho, pho, adieu! you palter.

Cre. In faith I do not; come hither once again. Ulys. You shake, my lord, at fomething; will

you go?

You will break out.

Troi. She ftrokes his cheek.

Ulyf. Come, come.

Troi. Nay, ftay; by Jove, I will not speak a word. There is between my will and all offences

A guard of patience: ftay a little while.

Ther. How the devil luxury with his fat rump and potato finger tickles these together! fry, letchery,

fry!

Dio. But will you then?

Cre. In faith, I will, la; never trust me else.
Hh 3

Dio

470

Dio. Give me fome token for the furety of it.
Cre. I'll fetch you one.

Ulyf. You have fworn patience.
Troi. Fear me not, fweet lord,

I will not be myself, nor have cognition
Of what I feel: I am all patience.

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[Exit.

Re-enter Creffida.

Ther. Now the pledge; now, now, now.
Cre. Here, Diomede, keep this fleeve.
Troi. O beauty! where's thy faith?
Ulyf. My lord,-

Troi. I will be patient, outwardly, I will.

Cre. You look upon that fleeve; behold it well:He lov'd me:-O falfe wench!-Give't me again. Dio. Whofe was't?

Cre. It is no matter, now I have❜t again.

I will not meet with you to morrow night:

I pr'ythee, Diomede, vifit me no more.

Ther. Now the sharpens: well faid, whetstone.
Dio. I fhall have it.

Cre. What, this?
Dio. Ay, that.

Cre. O, all ye Gods!- O pretty, pretty pledge;
Thy mafter now lyes thinking in his bed

Of thee and me, and fighs, and takes my glove,
And gives memorial dainty kiffes to it:

As I kifs thee.

[Diomedes fnatches the fleeve.

Nay, do not fnatch it from me:

He, that takes that, must take my heart withal.
Dio. I had your heart before, this follows it.
Troi. I did fwear patience.

Cre. You fhall not have it, Diomede: faith, you

fhall not:

I'll give you fomething else.

Dio.

Dio. I will have this: whofe was it?

Cre. 'Tis no matter.

Dio. Come, tell me whofe it was?

Cre. 'Twas one that lov'd me better than you will. But, now you have it, take it.

Dio. Whofe was it?

Gre. By all Diana's waiting-women yonder, And by herself, I will not tell you whose.

Dio. To morrow will I wear it on my helm, And grieve his fpirit, that dares not challenge it. Troi. Wert thou the Devil, and wor'ft it on thy horn,

It should be challeng❜d.

Cre. Well, well, 'tis done, 'tis paft; and yet it

is not

I will not keep my word.

Dio. Why then, farewel.

Thou never shalt mock Diomede again.

Cre. You fhall not go;-one cannot speak a word,

But it straight starts you.

Dio. I do not like this fooling.

Ther. Nor I, by Pluto: but that that likes not you,

pleases me beft.

Dio. What, fhall I come? the hour?

Cre. Ay, come:-O Jove !-do, come :

I fhall be plagued,

Dio. Farewel 'till then.

Cre. Good night: I pr'ythee, come.
Troilus, farewel; one eye yet looks on thee,
But with my heart the other eye doth fee.
Ah, poor our fex! this fault in us I find,
The error of our eye directs our mind.
What error leads, muft err: O then conclude,
Minds fway'd by eyes are full of turpitude.

[Exit.

[Exit.

3 By all Diana's waiting-women yonder.] i, e. the stars which

fhe points to.

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SCE E NE V.

Ther. A proof of ftrength fhe could not publish

more;

Unless fhe fay, my mind is now turn'd whore,
Ulyf. All's done, my lord.
Troi, It is.

Uly. Why stay we then?

Troi. To make a recordation to my foul,
Of every fyllable that here was spoke:
But if I tell how these two did co-act,
Shall I not lie in publishing a truth?
Sith yet there is a credence in my heart,
An efperance fo obftinately strong,
That doth invert th' atteft of eyes
and ears;
As if those organs had deceptious functions,
Created only to calumniate.

Was Creffid here?

Uly. I cannot conjure, Trojan.

Troi. She was not, fure.

Ulyf. Moft fure, fhe was.

Troi. Why, my negation hath no taste of madness." Ulyf. Nor mine, my lord: Creffid was here but now. Troi. Let it not be believ'd, for woman-hood! Think, we had mothers; do not give advantage To ftubborn criticks, apt, without a theme For depravation, to fquare all the fex

By Creffid's rule. Rather think this not Creffid.
Uly. What hath fhe done, Prince, that can foil our
mothers?

iTrai. Nothing at all, unless that this was fhe.
Ther. Will he fwagger himself out of his own eyes?
Troi. This fhe? no, this is Diomede's Crefida.
If beauty have a foul, this is not she:
If fouls guide vows, if vows are fanctimony,
If fanctimony be the Gods' delight,

If there be rule in unity itself,

This is not fhe. O madness of difcourfe!
That cause sets up with and against thyself!
Bi-fold authority! where reafon can revolt
Without perdition, and lofs affume all reafon
Without revolt. This is, and is not, Creffid.
Within my foul there doth commence a fight
Of this ftrange nature, that a thing infeparate
Divides far wider than the sky and earth;
And yet the fpacious breadth of this divifion
Admits no orifice for a point, as fubtle
As flight Arachne's broken woof to enter.
Inftance, O inftance, ftrong as Pluto's gates!
Creffid is mine, tied with the bonds of heav'n;
Instance, O inftance, ftrong as heav'n itself!
The bonds of heav'n are flip'd, diffolv'd and loos'd:
And with another knot five-finger-tied,

The fractions of her faith, orts of her love,
The fragments, fcraps, the bits, and greafie reliques
Of her o'er-eaten faith, are bound to Diomede.
Uly. May worthy Troilus be half attach'd
With that which here his paffion does express?

Troi. Ay, Greek, and that shall be divulged well; In characters, as red as Mars his heart

Inflam'd with Venus-ne'er did young man fancy
With fo eternal, and fo fix'd a foul-

Hark, Greek, as much as I do Creffid love,
So much by weight hate I her Diomede.

That fleeve is mine, that he'll bear in his helm :
Were it a cask compos'd by Vulcan's skill,
My fword fhould bite it: not the dreadful fpout,
Which fhip-men do the hurricano call,

where reafon can revolt

Without perdition, and lofs affume all reafon

Without revolt.] A miferable expreffion of a quaint thought, That to be unreasonable in love is reasonable; and to be reasonable, unreafonable. Perdition and lofs are both used in the very fame sense, and that an odd one, to fignify unreasonablenefs.

Con

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